


Malice In Wonderland

by TokioSunset



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: Alice In Wonderland AU, Enemies to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Multi, Mythical Beings & Creatures, badass band of brothers, gangster au, ishimaru is a badass, junko is a bitch
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-27
Updated: 2014-03-27
Packaged: 2018-01-17 05:05:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1374850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TokioSunset/pseuds/TokioSunset
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leon, Mondo and Ishimaru are members of an elite gang in modern-day Wonderland. The Queen of Hearts wants them dead. Spies walk among them in shadows and luminescent grins. Memories of the past are fading and the three are heading deep into the rabbit hole. They have one objective: find Alice at all costs! This could be tricky to accomplish if somebody were to catch her first...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Malice In Wonderland

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hello, everyone. This is the first thing I've ever posted on this account, and I hope it will be accepted well. Either way, I really hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> This was inspired by and loosely based off Alice In Wonderland, which I reread a couple of days ago and thought to myself, "Hey? You know what this needs?"
> 
> "Guns."

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Drip._

A syringe atop a leather pocketbook. Next to it was a laptop, a revolver with the shell of a fired bullet, coated in blood. It was still hot when they took it away from him and threw it on the desk, tying up his arms behind his back and hitting him over the head with the truncheon.

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Drip._

Ishimaru “The Rabbit” Kiyotaka remembered the desk inside the interrogation room with unfathomable vividness. He had his photographic memory to thank for that. Unlike the superintendent that finally took him in who needed to compare him to the picture taken by some covert photographer. Koizumi, he presumed at the time and gritted his teeth.

The lustrous photograph was imprinted on a Polaroid, last week’s date scribbled at the bottom in permanent marker. He looked away from the camera in that one. Judging by the proximity, the glorified paparazzi couldn’t have been more than twenty feet away. He cursed himself for not noticing her. Either way, it was all done now, and the Queen of Hearts had already issued a claim for Kiyotaka’s incarceration, as she had no lenience when it came to capturing bounty hunters.

This was why he was surprised and pleasantly relieved to find out that he was still alive.

_Drip!_

The last drop fell on his forehead. He furrowed his brow and rubbed his black, swollen eye. Arching his back, the former court advisor sat up straight on whatever he was lying on. It took some time for his vision to clear, but just by the sounds of trickling water and the smell of mildew, he could damn well guess that he was in the deepest, darkest pit of despair where cutpurses and crooks came to die.

Wonderland jail.

It was even darker than he remembered it.

He sat up on the sodden, tattered sheets that were the color of moss and had its scent. The stained wall was decorated with various posters and advertisements. The one that caught his eye was for the Beckville Circus, though he had a slight idea that the tickets were sold out. Not that it mattered – there was no seeing the show for him, anyway. The most prominent part of the room, that hung above the disgusting clogged toilet, was a looking glass. As expected, it was smashed to pieces by the cell’s previous tenant. The shards were long and sharp as daggers.

Taking that into consideration, Kiyotaka ripped a piece of cloth from his cover. It gave a quick, satisfying rip before he pocketed it. He checked behind him to see if anyone had overheard.

As he did, a strong spear of pain shot through his abdomen. He hissed, pressing his right palm on his bloodied bandages. His body curved inwards in agony for a second or two before he commanded it to relax and endure it. There was too much on the line right now to focus on pain.

He would not be giving these bastards the satisfaction of bleeding out. With that thought in mind, he tightened his bandages and craned his head back. He’d put off moving for the time being. At least until the blood stopped rushing through his stomach like knives.

Kiyotaka couldn’t see much on the side of the room. It was the usual sight; sticky floors, torn posters, the smell of rotting flesh and blood in the air and a body lying in the corner. He couldn’t recognize the creature sharing the same room with him. What he did notice, however, was that it was half naked and covered with mushrooms that grew from its braided hair. Never seeing such a creature before, he squinted at it, storing the data to his brain.

His cellmate was a nice… whatever it was. It was proper to speak of it in past tense, at least judging by the long-haired being’s flaccid tongue and pale face. Its eyes were closed, like it was dreaming. Ishimaru wished he could have afforded himself the luxury.

Grunting, he finally lowered his feet on the ground that shook under his frame.

Standing straight, his attention was shifted to the ominous chuckle coming from behind him. It was brisk, arrogant, playful in its way. Only one person he knew could have chuckled like that in a place like this.

Knowing who it was, Ishimaru wouldn’t allow himself to look back just yet. He faced the wall, his forehead corrugated and his fists clenched into balls. He heard the flicker of a lighter and a deep drag. He couldn’t smell the cigar; meaning the man was behind one of those “impenetrable” glass walls and looking at him like a wolf through the window of a butcher shop.

“Well, well, well…” spoke a mechanical voice through the speaker. “If it isn’t The Rabbit come to see his old pal The Hatter?”

Ishimaru took in a much needed breath of air. His head tilted to the side, still not allowing The Hatter to see how agitated this whole spiel had made him.

“Kuwata,” he responded. “I didn’t expect to see you incarcerated again.”

“I didn’t expect to see you shot in the gut and left to die, either. The cops saved your life, huh? That kinda thing only happens to you, Rabbit.” He laughed again, his tone now croaky and wicked. It was interrupted by a coughing fit that burst right through his ribcage. He coughed and coughed and the scarlet-eyed gangster imagined him, leaning into his fist and screwing his eyes shut while he struggled to breathe, just like that one time he was shot in the lungs.

Smoking was a disgusting habit. Ishimaru had told him that time and time again. But did they listen? No. Nobody listened to him.

After some time, he turned his head to see the man donned in white.

He appeared to be much skinnier than last time he saw him. He was bruised in places and cut on the sides of his mouth and cheeks. These scraps weren’t as much occupational hazards as they were marital disputes. His fingers were beringed with golden bands and clashing with the white and red hues of his clothing; a loosely-fitted jacket folding around his pinstriped red shirt, a black tie that he draped around his shoulders like a scarf, white platform shoes and a black porkpie hat. His red hair was unkempt and framing his features like a mane. His goatee was clipped short, or maybe it wasn’t, unless Ishimaru had forgotten his old colleague’s previous appearance.  The one thing he would never forget was the playing card sticking out of Leon’s head. It was an ace of hearts, a failed assassination attempt by one of the Queen’s henchmen. It came out of his hat, the bottom of it covered in blood and the top of it split and neglected. Luckily, the playing card never hindered Leon “The Hatter” Kuwata in his job performance. It did, however, give him a more devilish appeal. And that crazy look in his icy-blue eyes never hurt a bit.

The thick cigar pointed at the listless body in the corner of Ishimaru’s room, his golden tooth flashing at the assassin.

“Jabberwock,” he noted flatly. “Some company you’ve got here, eh?”

“How would you know what a Jabberwock looks like?”

“ _I erno_ ,” Leon responded in an inarticulate version of  _I don’t know._ He continued his answer with a to-the-point counter question, “How would you know what a Jabberwock  _doesn’t_  look like?”

“I know it does not look like that,” Ishimaru retorted, ticking a thumb to the body. “There’s a sickening presence to it, but it looks nothing like that infamous creature.”

“All right, all right, lose the attitude, Rabbit, I know you finished high school. Jail's got you kinda preachy, ya know that? You don’t wanna be in Wonderland jail preaching. Ya know what happens to preachers?”

Ishimaru knitted his eyebrows together, lips tightening and nimble fingers digging deep into his biceps as he crossed his arms over his chest. His head fell down. “They become pariahs,” he responded in Leon’s place. “They get sent to the rose gardens and never return.”

“I was jus’ like you once, remember? But they intervened.” He pointed at the playing card wedged in his head, the smoke of his cigarette still billowing in his fingers. "Now I keep my thoughts to myself. I think I'm doing fine."

"I can see that..." Ishimaru said, taking another long look around the walls that imprisoned them. He was doing fine, yes, but only because he was fine by this. Speaking of which...

"Somethin' bothering you, Rabbit?" Leon inquired, eyes wide as dinner plates and his mouth forming a shit-eating grin. "The accommodations don't suit ya, eh?"

Ishimaru's eyes turned to stone, noticing a wide gap in his eidetic memory. There was a chunk missing - starting from the previous afternoon and reaching his violent interrogation. All events in between were pitch black, erased from existence. It was just like somebody had reached into his brain and pulled them out like weeds. 

The Rabbit's throat went dry.

_What... did I do?_

"How did I even get here?" The question was directed at nobody in particular, and burst out into the open as soon as Ishimaru found a way to put his dread into words. He remembered being apprehended, yes. He vaguely recalled the faces of the people in the background as he was taken away. But why would they have grabbed him today, of all days? 

His brief contemplation was put to an end by Leon's snickering.

"I've got a card in my head, but you're the one with memory problems?" He threw his head back and laughed. Ishimaru was not amused.

"You find this funny?!" He blurted out with a thick eyebrow shooting up. "It won't be funny when we're on death row!"

"You won't be on death fucking ro -!"

"How can you possibly know that?" Ishimaru started again, arms flailing about like streamers. "There is a number of crimes we could be killed for! I can't think of any concerning myself but..." His vermilion orbs narrowed once he bated his breath. Nostrils flaring but relatively calm, the younger gangster turned to the neighboring inmate. "Speaking of which, why are you here?"

The redheaded Hatter ran a pierced tongue over his chipped teeth. He casually put one hand into his deep trouser pocket, balling it into a fist inside. He swayed to the side and watched the ceiling with an air most nonchalant. "I got in trouble for, ah...  _misbehaving._ You on the other hand... ya know what, Rabbit?" He squinted his eyes, chuckling to himself. "I have no idea why you're in here. But I sorta think I did once. For a while, ya know."

"Well," Ishimaru replied, unsatisfied an a touch antsy. His palms planted on his hips. "How do you suppose we get out of here?"

Leon smacked his tongue against his pallet, leaning on the clear glass. He pressed his forearm against it, shifty eyes flickering from one corner of Ishimaru’s chamber to another, stopping at the assumed Jabberwock’s abdomen and staying on it briefly. Rubbernecking, he checked for guards, who appeared to be on break. Of course, he knew that these guards could have been giving them some time to devise a plan before storming in and separating them, one way or another. This was why he decided to speak in hushed tones, which proved to be extremely difficult given the fact he was talking through a noise-enhancing speaker.

“The Jabberwock’s got the key,” he determined.

“It’s not a Jabberwock.”

“That’s not even near the fucking point, Rabbit. The thing swallowed it. Pro’ly snatched it from the guards and then panicked when they caught him. I heard he choked on it and they left the body there as a warning. It’s gruesome if you ask me. And actually kinda cool.”

The Rabbit’s ears perked up, his hand curling around the cloth he got hold of. Once again, he looked at the broken mirror and his fragmented reflection. Sixteen cautious eyes examined him back, and judged his next move.

He marched up to the looking glass – one hand pressed hard on his clenching gut – and removed a shard.

“You’re saying I should cut him up and retrieve the key?” He wrapped the cloth around the piece of reflective glass several times before holding it in his hand felt comfortable.

Leon scrunched up his nose, fingers tapping along the partition. “Yeah… and no.” He smirked at Ishimaru who looked at him in distress. “God you’re jumpy for a gangster. Anyway, you can’t just stab through a body. If somebody sees you stabbing through a Jabberwock – even a dead Jabberwock – they’re gonna…”

He did not finish his sentence. He did, however, move a hand across the base of his neck while making a noise similar to gargling. The Rabbit understood the implication.

Irritated by the Hatter, however, his hand clenched the makeshift dagger tighter. Unless Kuwata began to spew out anything worthwhile, he was going to try and test just how “impenetrable” that glass really was.

“A fair warning,” Ishimaru admitted, “What do you propose as an escape plan?”

“You ain’t gonna like it.”

“That I already know.”

“I mean… really. You’re going to hate it.”

“I am asking you for advice, Leon. That clearly shows how desperate I am. But frankly, there is nothing worse than being incarcerated with you. Except maybe getting shot.”

At that moment, a brief thought zoomed past him. How his stomach didn’t hurt at all during this conversation. That being thought, he grunted and arched down, staring at the blood-soaked bandages with an icy stare. He only looked up, with an expression of severe loathing, when Leon presented his plan of action.

“There’s a shrinking nut clogging the toilet. If you swallow it you’ll be tiny enough to crawl into the guy’s ear.”

Ishimaru’s features contorted in a revolted grimace. “Clogging the _what_?”

“That.” Leon pressed a finger on the glass, pointing at the porcelain throne. Even he had to grate his teeth at the suggestion. The satisfaction of knowing that Ishimaru had no other option did not make him any happier because of this, although it should have. “I know digging your way in there sounds bad but trust me… eating it will be much worse.”

“That…” He took a step back, spreading his arms wide as his body shook. “… is the most _disgusting_ suggestion I ever heard!”

“Come on, Rabbit, we -!”

“Look, there is absolutely no way I’m getting near it… that… No! Do you have any idea how filthy those things are?! They are laden with bacteria and viruses and germs and microbes and – EEUGH!” The Rabbit squirmed, compelled to scratch his arms and take six consecutive showers. Leon, for once, did not jeer at his outburst.

“I don’t care what you’re comfortable with! This is literally a life or death situation! And keep your fucking voice down.”

Ishimaru stopped in place, his eyebrows brought together slightly. All color vanished from his face in that wave of cumbersome gravity that pressed down on his shoulders. “You know what, Leon? I bet all this information you’re giving me is something you heard from your old convicted poker buddies. How the hell can a walnut clog up a toilet? Why would somebody hide it there?! This whole thing is a bit too convenient for my liking.”

“Look, what are you afraid of, anyway? Is there a shrink nut in there? I dunno, maybe. But what’s the worst thing that could happen?! I don’t know why you’re here but your record ain’t exactly spotless! There’s a shitload of things that these people don’t know about! And whatever got you in here can just be another thing to add to your list of things that could get a guy publically executed! So what’s the worst that could happen? You could die. Or you could dig through some shit and then die.”

The two stared at each other in blank silence, listening to the water drip from the rusted pipes overhead. The Rabbit bit the inside of his cheek, still wondering about the crime that finally brought him in. The Hatter watched with his hands pressed on the screen. He wasn’t afraid of this place. Not one bit. He had escaped it time and time again, and knew all the nooks and crannies of Wonderland’s most feared institution, other than the Queen’s ivory castle. But if this control freak wanted to doubt him, he honestly had no problem with that.

“I gave you my tip. I toldja you aren’t gonna be into it. So you just do what you want. I wouldn’t lie to ya. At least, not about the important stuff, ya know? I _am_ mad, but I’m not evil. I wish you’d remember that.”

On those words, he turned on his heel and looked away, into his private section.

They kept putting him in different rooms, seemingly to try and confuse him. One room was the same as any other, in his opinion. And this time, he had a pretty good feeling that he was going to bust out of there, and soon. Either the Rabbit would test his luck and try and reach for the nut (he already was, or was at least considering it, judging by his loud gagging), or Lady Luck would come their way in the form of a six-foot-two Gang Leader busting through the thick mortar and brick wielding a heavy bazooka.

Sirens came to life in a deafening crescendo, red lights flickered on and a horde of guards ran amok.

Their jailbreak came in the latter form, and was as anticlimactic as a five-dollar hooker.

But that’s just how Mondo “The March Hare” Oowada worked, Leon supposed, tilting his hat over his eye. He leisurely ambled over to the metal rail of his headboard, putting his leg on the mattress. Using his foot as leverage, he grabbed the long piece of metal and pulled it apart, his muscles aching and blood pumping through his head. He turned upon hearing the lively BEEP of the accepted pass code.

Mondo gave him a smirk, his finger on the dial. Leon nodded in appreciation.

A bare second later, the two were back to back. Leon whacked the guards until they were on the ground, bleeding in their uniform. Mondo holstered the bazooka behind his back and took out a submachine gun. He pressed it against his shoulder and fired. Cartridges scattered and flew above his pompadour. The men coming at them with revolvers and tazers fell like a deck of cards.

“Not a second too soon, Mondo,” Leon spoke behind his shoulder, striking another grunt hard over his jaw. “Using a bazooka this time? Sheesh.”

“What can I say? I get madder in March.” He used the Tommy gun as a baton on one of the attackers, seeing that he ran out of ammo.

A blond defender flew into the bars of Ishimaru’s cage, hands curling around them. He struggled to get up on his feet, fury rushing through his eyes once his orbs locked on the duo. He was about to fly and strike before feeling a sharp pang of pain. He saw a shard of bloody glass protruding from his abdomen when he looked down. He choked, the red bile dripping down the corners of his mouth before he passed out, and then passed away.

Ishimaru withdrew the blade from him, glaring down. “Hey!” He shouted to his comrades. “A little help here would be appreciated!”

Mondo’s eyes narrowed. “Ishimaru?” He made another man fall to the ground while Leon gave a skyward screech and pretended that the enemies’ heads were baseballs at the batting cage. The March Hare punched through the now dilapidated crowd, yanking the door of the cell open. “What are you even doing here?”

“No idea. You take the last five standing and then storm for the exit! Leon! Let’s move!”

The Hatter shot a quick glance at the dark-haired man, slashing and zipping through the newly-made hole in the wall like he was running late for a very important date. The redhead followed suit.

“Oh look!” Mondo gestured into a corner while he sped up after them. “I didn’t know your cellmate was a Jabberwock!”

“IT IS NOT A GODDAMN JABBERWOCK!”

Two minutes after the mayhem, the trio of gangsters ran all the way to the thick forest of Tumtum trees, all breathing heavily and desperately trying to stand on their feet. They’d lost the guards, yes, but they also came to a mutual agreement that the daily stress, tobacco, mushroom indulgence and alcohol abuse had left a toll on their overall physical fitness. At least it did for Mondo and Leon. Kiyotaka had no excuse for becoming winded this quickly, and this is what bothered him the most.

“We… lost ‘em…” Mondo managed, one hand pressed hard on the tree trunk. The Hare lifted his lilac eyes and noticed the Rabbit, averting his eyes from him. He smacked him hard on the back, a gesture that was equal parts friendly and impatient. “Hey, Rabbit! Don’t I even get a _thank you_?”

Ishimaru huffed. “Much appreciated. Though you could’ve come a second earlier.”

On that note, he lifted up his left hand and presented a small walnut in his fingers. Mondo had no idea what to make of that. Leon did and cackled.

The Gang Leader put a heavy arm over Ishimaru’s shorter frame. “What were you even doing in there in the first place? You never get caught.”

“He doesn’t remember,” Leon said, taking another cigarette out of his pocket and lighting it on the sole of his shoe. “I don’t either. I was kinda hoping you’d know, seeing that you two are insufferable.”

“ _Inseparable_ ,” Ishimaru corrected, shuffling deeper into Mondo’s arm.

“No, no, no, I was right the first time.”

“So wait,” Mondo began, trying to clear his head. “You have no idea why they arrested you?”

“Not a clue. And I don’t recall taking anything that could have disrupted my memory. I didn’t really do anything criminal.”

Mondo lifted up his eyebrows, giving him his famous _who-do-you-think-you’re-kidding?_ expression.

“I mean, I can’t think of anything I could have been seen doing,” he quickly corrected himself. He looked away into the dark trees that barricaded the path to the town, hoping that they could follow the sunlight that filtrated through the branches. “Curiouser and curiouser…”

“Whoa!” Mondo pushed away from the Rabbit. He quickly pointed at the bandages around his waist. “When did that happen?!”

“Oh, this?” Ishimaru gestured to his wound that he had actually forgotten about. Several times by now, when he took a second to think about it. “I’m… I am not really certain about that one either. At first I thought the authorities got me, but now I’m not so sure… Going by what Leon said, I think they patched me up or something.”

“Rabbit, maybe we oughta get you some help. I mean, you don’t remember getting shot? That’s pretty fucking serious.”

“Mondo, I said I’m fine. I do appreciate the concern but -!”

“Can you ladies just make out some other time?” Leon asked halfway politely, a cigar dangling between his index and middle finger. “In about five minutes they’re gonna start dropping halibut in the woods to attract the Bandersnatch. You wanna be eaten by that thing? I don’t think so…”

Mondo and Ishimaru quickly agreed. Kiyotaka’s scarlet eyes flickered to a golden timepiece he took out of his jacket pocket.

“Leon has a point,” he noted, opening the small flap. “And we have to hurry. I think Alice is expecting us already.”

With a curt nod from the Hatter, the three set off into the deep woods. The Hatter couldn’t help but to roll his eyes at the idiots behind him, the taller one fawning over Ishimaru and telling him to take it easy, which culminated with him picking him up bridal-style despite his cries of protest.

This, Leon thought to himself, was going to be a _loooong_ day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
